


Atto Due

by thesuperG



Series: A Second Chance [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-24 05:51:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesuperG/pseuds/thesuperG
Summary: Elio spends his first weekend in New York with his three boys.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More gross wish fulfillment because what is angst?
> 
> This will switch points of view each chapter.

I had finally succeeded in getting my eyes off my watch and actually grade a paper when I heard the knock on the door and almost started out of my seat from anticipation. I managed a “come in” through my grin and then he was here, standing in the doorway of my office with a roller suitcase and slightly rumpled look of a recent arrival by train, mirroring my radiant happiness.

He didn’t even get out a “hi” before I was up and unceremoniously slamming the door so I could pull him into a hug so tight I lifted him a few inches off the ground. He laughed breathlessly into my neck, clutching back just as hard.

“I love you too but breathing might be good,” he gasped eventually, and I conceded slightly by placing him back down and letting my arms loosen around his waist as his settled over my shoulders. My eyes flitted greedily from his twinkling eyes to his quirked lips and he gazed up at me with a love-struck expression.

“Three weeks is an eternity, let’s never do that again,” he murmured, one hand coming up to grab my chin and pull me in.

“Deal,” I agreed fervently, and he captured my mouth with his.

He wasted no time in coaxing my lips open and slipping his tongue inside with a low hum of approval, so I lost myself in the soft, slick warmth of him and kissed back just as hard. Just before it was about to push into obscene territory I hazily remembered where we were and that I had a class to teach in fifteen minutes, so with a final taste I released his lower lip from between mine and pulled back with a final kiss to his cheek.

His eyes slowly blinked open and he ran his tongue along his lip absently, slightly out of breath and gorgeous.

“Hello.”

I couldn’t help another quick peck. “Hi.”

“You have a class now right?”

I nodded. “A fifty minute lecture which will be half-assed at best now that you’re here to distract me.”

He grinned cheekily and slid a hand through my hair, pulling it lightly.

“I’ll just be at the back ogling the hot professor, don’t mind me.”

I snorted and stepped back, adjusting myself and quickly grabbing my notes and slides before catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror by the door and groaning at the state of my hair while Elio laughed.

“I’m about to get interrogated by forty nosy students,” I panicked, “I look-“

“Thoroughly kissed?”

He came up and smoothed me down, adjusting my tie and using it to pull me in for a quick brush of lips before grabbing my jacket and shrugging me into it. It felt so natural and domestic, like we’d been enacting this same routine every morning for years, and for a moment it filled me with sadness that we hadn’t. But here we were now, brought back together through the fucked up luck of the universe, allowed to have this.

Elio stepped back, giving me a once over with a satisfied nod. “Slightly less debauched.”

I stared at him, my personal miracle.

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

He smiled warmly.

“No place I’d rather be. Now show me your moves, Pro.”

***

After class was finished and we’d caught a few more precious minutes in the privacy of my office we walked out into the fading September sun and toward the subway, walking close enough to innocuously brush hands every few strides as Elio caught me up on his week, talking enthusiastically about his post-tonal theory seminar in his endearingly Italian manner, hands moving expressively and eyes sparkling with passion. I absorbed every second of it eagerly as we got on the train. When we emerged back above ground near Sam’s daycare I paused and turned to him.

“Ready for this?”

He squeezed my arm and nodded emphatically.

Sam was in the assistant Jamie’s arms as we walked up to the center, chatting animatedly as she walked out to greet us on the sidewalk with a smile.

“Hi Oliver!” She called, pointing at me to alert Sam, who looked over excitedly and then squirmed to be released and rushed up to us with a cry of delight. Elio crouched down slightly hesitantly, as if worried Sam might not remember him, but Sam just stretched his arms out and clumsily brought them around Elio’s neck. I tried not to burst into tears at the sight.

Jamie followed and handed me his bag and gave a quick report of the day which I barely absorbed as I watched Elio straighten up with Sam, who was patting his cheek while trying to explain to Jamie that “this Elio,” and getting confused when she just nodded indulgently, like she didn’t understand just how important he was. I found I couldn’t disagree with his annoyance.

We said our goodbyes and began the short walk to Adam’s school. Sam reached out for me so I grabbed his hand as he sat comfortably on Elio’s hip.

“Put him down if he gets too heavy, don’t let him trick you into thinking he can’t walk,” I murmured conspiratorially, getting a pout from Sam and a grin from Elio, who blew a raspberry into Sam’s cheek to cheer him.

“What do you think, hmm? Can you show me how to walk to your brother’s school?” He asked, bouncing Sam a little and setting him down between us, so he could hold each of our hands as we made slow progress toward Adam’s new elementary school.

Adam screeched in excitement when we rounded the corner, abandoning his cluster of friends at the swings in the small playground out front and barreling into us even as a teacher yelled “no running!” and a few parents looked around in mild alarm.

“Hi hi hi hi Dad –hi Sammy –Elio’s here!” He patted Sam’s head affectionately and gave me a cursory hug but was as enthralled by Elio as he’d been in Italy. After they’d hugged and we’d started our walk home he was clinging to Elio and talking a mile a minute, spilling the intended surprise that we’d bought a nice used upright piano for the house and he had been practicing. Elio spared a moment to shoot me a glowing smile and I winked back, hoping he wasn’t overwhelmed by Adam’s newfound love of asking a million questions.

As we rounded the corner toward our building Elio hung back with me while Adam, in one of his sweeter older brother moods, held Sam’s hand and walked him up to the door.

Elio was looking around curiously as I found my keys, and I was suddenly slightly nervous at the prospect of throwing him straight into our messy home. Deep in the back of my mind the plan to sell the condo and look for a new place with fewer memories had been percolating, but I knew I wanted it to be a place we picked together and even I wasn’t crazy enough to mention that on day one. So I just shrugged out a “home sweet home” as I opened the door and ushered everyone in.

Adam gave Elio a tour of the apartment, starting in the living room, now sporting a piano, which was littered with Legos and toy cars and had a makeshift office in the corner with my desk surrounded by bookshelves full of history texts and term papers, then leading him through the dining room and kitchen and through the hallway to the bedrooms.

***

Later that evening we managed to have a fairly successful dinner without mishaps or tantrums and I was reveling in the feeling of not being outnumbered for the first time in months. Every moment I could I was reaching for Elio to reassure myself that he was real and not some spirit sent to help me in my time of need. He seemed to sense my relief and responded to every touch with gentle reassurances.

Eventually Sam started to fuss so I gathered him up to take him to bed.

“Fifteen minutes and then time to brush your teeth, ok bud?” I told Adam, who swooned on the couch in despair while Elio tried not to laugh at his reaction. “No arguments,” I mustered my sternest dad voice and took Sam to get ready for bed, hearing Elio say “just wait until you’re a teenager, you’ll want to sleep for _ages and ages_ ,” while Adam disagreed vehemently.

Once Sam had fallen asleep to the third time through Goodnight Moon I walked back out and pointed to the bathroom until Adam finally huffed and stomped in to brush his teeth. I sat down in his vacated spot next to Elio and picked his hand up, placing it against my lips in fervent thanks.

“Are you okay?”

He was almost laughing. “Kids are _insane.”_

“Pretty much,” I agreed, searching his face for any signs of regret.

“Oliver,” he said seriously, grabbing my cheek and looking into my eyes. “I love them.”

I let out a breath and kissed him firmly.

Adam came out and gave me a big grin to prove his good brushing habits, and with a final goodnight to Elio headed to his room.

“Give me a few minutes to get him settled,” I murmured. He nodded with a soft smile.

“I’ll just give my parents a quick call, let them know I’m here.”

***

I was lying with my head propped on one hand rubbing Adam’s back slowly, waiting for the telltale deep breaths that meant he was well and truly asleep and I could move without waking him, when I looked at the doorway and saw Elio leaning against the frame watching me with a look that was half affection and half desire. I quirked a smile and slowly withdrew my hand and then inched myself off the mattress, sighing in relief when I didn’t see any movement from Adam. I switched off the light and tiptoed out.

As soon as we were in the hall and I had shut the door I found myself pressed against the wall with a leg between mine and talented hands roaming everywhere.

“Seeing you as a good father is incredibly attractive and I don’t know what that says about me,” he panted against my mouth with a soft laugh, fingers slipping under my shirt and finding my hips to pull me toward him and press us together. I could feel him half hard against my thigh as I whined at the contact and grabbed him back, walking us backward toward my bedroom while keeping my lips on his.

“Psychoanalysis later, bed now,” I gasped as we got through the threshold and I wrenched myself away from his eager mouth to close and lock the door. When I turned around Elio was sprawled on the bed as I’d imagined in all my guilty fantasies, breathing heavily and working on the flies of his jeans. I batted his hands away and yanked them off, dropping my own pants in record time so I could crawl on top of him and press him into the mattress with a deep, messy kiss, desperate to be as close to him as humanly possible.

He whimpered when our erections brushed through our boxers and I grasped impatiently at his shirt, pulling back to press kisses up the pale stomach that was revealed as I unbuttoned it hastily, finally pushing it to the sides and grinding back down against him frantically as he pulled my tongue into his mouth with a needy noise.

“I’m not- _oh God-_ going to last,” he moaned, pushing against me impatiently, already sounding wrecked, and just the sound of his voice got me close to the edge too.

“Me either,” I panted against his jaw, and a few minutes of needy writhing later I collapsed on top of him, spent, as he shuddered and bit his lip to keep from crying out.

I felt Elio start to shake beneath me and as the blood stopped pounding in my ears I heard the giggles he was muffling against my shoulder.

“Next time I’ll remember that I have technique, I promise,” I said, getting the giggles too and rolling off him slightly as we both panted at the ceiling, grinning.

“We didn’t even get naked,” he snorted, but his eyes were blissful and his expression dreamy as he petted my hair and traced my lips with his finger.

“Shower and a nightcap?” I asked softly after a couple more minutes of quietly gazing at one another, swimming in endorphins and re-memorizing each other's faces.

“Mmm,” he agreed, and we shucked off our sticky boxers and went to wash up. While he stayed in the shower to wash the travel off I went and cleaned the mess of toys scattered across the living room floor before pouring two glasses of wine.

He shuffled out a few minutes later, looking deliciously soft and warm as he sat down next to me on the couch, wearing one of my Columbia sweatshirts and leaning into me as we cheers-ed.

“Parents okay?” I asked, turning in so I could pull him toward me with a kiss to his hairline. He sighed contentedly and nodded.

“They say hi, I gave dad a review of your lecture and he says you pass,” he smirked.

We sipped our wine slowly, trading soft touches and speaking quietly about nothing in particular, just enjoying the peaceful stillness that only came after the boys were finally down for the night.

Like loved-up teenagers we had spent the last three weeks apart talking late into the night, racking up astronomical phone bills while he was still in Italy but unable to help ourselves. After years of letters we just needed to hear each other’s voices to remember we hadn’t dreamed our entire Italian reunion. We had talked about everything we’d skirted around over the years; my father’s death, Jess’s and my marriage, and Elio’s life and relationships in Paris and then Connecticut.

We’d also haltingly discussed what would happen when Elio’s last assistant teaching commitments at Yale were over in December and he could permanently move down to the city, both of us attempting to reign ourselves in.

“I could find a studio apartment near you guys for a while,” he’d said, a little glumly.

“You could...” I agreed.

“But I don't want to,” he muttered, and I couldn't help my sigh of relief.

 “I don’t want you to either, I want you here.”

“My friends think I’m crazy,” he laughed breathlessly, “are we crazy?”

“Probably, yes,” I said laughing a little too. “But I can’t bring myself to care.”

We had agreed to start with him visiting on the weekends and go from there, knowing full well that there would never be a studio at all and come January he’d already be moved in.

On the couch Elio finished his last sip of wine and placed the glass down on the coffee table, taking my hand and gently twining our fingers together. “What’s on deck for tomorrow?” he asked, looking up at me.

“Usually we go to temple in the morning and then I told Ben and Shelly we’d meet them at the park for a picnic if the weather’s nice.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking excited.

“I get to meet the famous best friend at last, can I ask for embarrassing young Oliver stories?”

I threw my head back against the cushions and groaned. “Just know that most of what he tells you will be lies.”

“Uh huh, ok,” he grinned, nosing at my jaw.

“When are you meeting Dr. Katz?” I asked, remembering that he was seeing an old professor who now worked at Juilliard and might have some good work connections.

“She said Sunday afternoon worked best so we’re getting lunch.”

I nodded.

“I think she’s going to ask if I want her music director job at St. Joe’s,” he mused.

I was taken aback. “Really, she said that?”

He shook his head. “Not explicitly, but she asked about my interest in liturgical music and whether I enjoyed conducting when we spoke on the phone. She is almost seventy-five, so I’m sure she’s ready to be done.”

“Would you want it?” I asked.

He nodded thoughtfully. “I think so, I’d get great experience working with the singers and I’d kill to mess around on that organ every week. Could work out well if I…well, it’s mostly weekend work and a few evening rehearsals, so I’d still have time for working on my dissertation and my composition projects and…” he blushed slightly, “looking after the boys.”

I stared at him with a disbelieving smile, bringing a hand to the nape of his neck and guiding his delightfully pink cheek to my lips. 

“We’re really going to do this, make a life together.”

He nodded with a breathy sigh as I ghosted my mouth across the bridge of his nose to the other cheek and down across his jaw.

“I meant it when- when I said I was all in,” he murmured, stuttering as I found his pulse point and sucked lightly. “This is it for me.”

I pulled back and saw the conviction in his eyes, astounded yet again that I wasn’t dreaming up this happy ending. So I poured every bit of the overwhelming love I was feeling into the kisses I bestowed on him, taking my time savoring his hitching breaths as I caressed his tongue with mine and letting time get syrupy slow at my unhurried pace.

After a stretch of time that seemed to last hours Elio was pliant and whimpering in my arms, greedy hands grasping at my shirt to pull me closer, eventually sliding easily onto my lap and winding his hands into my hair as his hips rolled shallowly into mine. He looked lost in his own pleasure, mouth slack and wet as I explored it thoroughly, earning choked off moans that took my breath away and made my hips buck up into his.

“I think now you show me your technique,” he gasped into my mouth after one particularly filthy roll of his hips and I finally snapped out of the haze I had created, and with a strength I hadn’t anticipated I stood up, tucking his legs around my waist and walking us to the bedroom as Elio mouthed wetly at my neck.

Once we were safely inside I did what we hadn’t managed earlier and methodically stripped us down, kissing every inch of skin I uncovered until Elio was trembling with need and chanting _in me in me_ until I obliged him. When I had opened him up and finally pushed in he let out a long, low moan of satisfaction and wrapped himself around me like a vice.

As I held still and let him adjust I felt a surge of possessive jealousy at all the people who’d seen him like this over the last decade, flushed and spread out against the sheets, riot of curls a halo around his face as he tossed his head in pleasure. Did they know just how lucky they were? What a masterpiece they were witnessing?

“What’s the matter?” He panted, running a hand through the sweaty hair at the nape of my neck.

“I’ve no right to be, but I’m horribly jealous of those other people that got to have you when I couldn’t.”

“No one’s had me like this,” he whispered roughly, urging me to move, clutching at my back, my arms, my ass, plush mouth hanging open as he blinked through his arousal. “Because no one else made me feel like this.”

With a low growl of agreement I finally fucked into him slowly, savoring and drawing it out as long as possible until with a broken cry Elio reached between us and stroked himself twice before arching hard off the mattress and with a final thrust I followed, sobbing my release into his neck.

After a few moments I pulled back and let my gaze track over his face, flushed and sporting a sated, drowsy smile.

“Mon amour,” he whispered contentedly.

“All yours.”

I cleaned us up quietly while Elio hovered just above dozing and then coaxed him back into his pajamas, unlocking the door in case the kids needed anything and sliding in next to him with a contented sigh. We were both out in minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two, Elio style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love!
> 
> Ben is Max Minghella in my head because I just re-watched The Social Network and it gave me lovely images of college Oliver (and his twin I guess).

I stirred as the door creaked open, feeling Oliver shift next to me, but as soon as he heard the pitiful “daddy?” he was sitting up with his back to me and pulling Sam into his lap as he sniffled heartbreaking sobs into Oliver’s t-shirt.

I was at a loss for what to do, propped up on my elbows watching helplessly as Sam hiccuped for his mom and Oliver just kept whispering reassurances and love into his hair and rubbing a comforting hand across his back, rocking slowly. I knew this happened semi-regularly but seeing it in person was an entirely different experience, and my chest was tight with anguish as I lay there, utterly useless.

Eventually as Oliver kept up a steady mantra of _daddy loves you_ Sam’s sobs died down a little and blinking, he peeked out from the crook of Oliver’s neck and noticed me over Oliver’s shoulder. I sat up and moved a little closer, unsure whether he quite understood why I was here, but he just reached out with a chubby hand and a sad little sigh and I gratefully grasped back. Scooting in close to Oliver’s back I pressed kisses to Sam’s little fingers and pushed his sweaty hair off his forehead gently, swiping a thumb under his teary eyes to catch the moisture. Oliver leaned back into me slightly in thanks and I pressed a hand to his hip in comfort.

We sat in that tableau silently until Sam’s exhausted eyes finally closed and Oliver could carry him back to bed without waking him. When he came back in he just tucked himself into me with a sigh, looking unbearably young and vulnerable. I rubbed his back as he’d rubbed Sam’s, and eventually he relaxed into me and drifted off, leaving me to stare at the ceiling and wonder yet again how anyone could ever leave them.

***

I woke up before the rest of the house and was rooting around in the kitchen figuring out the coffee maker when two arms came around me and Oliver plastered himself to my back with a sleepy kiss behind my ear. We puttered around and ended up in the cozy living room with our coffee and toast, Oliver skimming the paper on the couch as I sprawled out on the floor next to the coffee table with my undergrad comp students' exercises, red pen in hand.

A little while later Adam shuffled blearily into the living room in his footy pajamas and collapsed into Oliver, snuggling into the crook of his arm as Oliver kissed his hair and adjusted his newspaper around him. I watched their weekend morning routine unfold as Oliver finished the section and grabbed the comics, the two of them reading together as Oliver pointed out words for Adam to try and sound out, always encouraging him with a squeeze or a “good job kiddo.” My work lay forgotten as I watched them, mesmerized.

Eventually Sam called out for Oliver and he got up with a sigh, leaving Adam looking uncharacteristically dejected. It hit me that, perceptive as he was, he probably felt the loss of a parent more acutely because so much Oliver’s time had to go to Sam. I got up and fluffed his curls.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s make some pancakes.”

When Oliver and Sam emerged from the bathroom they found us covered in flour and making blueberry smiles on the batter. Oliver just beamed at us until I bopped him on the nose with some powdered sugar and ran away into the dining room before he could retaliate, hearing Sam’s delighted giggle behind me.

***

I met their community of friends at temple, surprising myself at how much I enjoyed the service given how much of a secular Jew I’d been all my life. Acutely aware of the fact that everyone knew Jessica (Oliver had confessed that the only reason he kept coming to this synagogue after she left was to provide some continuity for the kids) I played the part of visiting friend as best I could, gritting my teeth as everyone looked pityingly at the three of them and the old women plotted to find Oliver a new wife.

“They want you married by next year,” I muttered petulantly to him as we grabbed coffee.

“Well they get to keep dreaming until the state of New York changes some laws.”

I gaped at him.

“Your mouth’s open,” he said, barely holding back laughter.

“You can’t say shit like that in a place where I can’t jump you, it’s unfair.”

***

We finally made it to the park around noon, walking toward a couple sitting on a blanket who were waving us over. Adam grabbed Sam’s hand and dragged him off toward a girl who looked to be about five.

Ben stood up as we walked up to the blanket, and I got my first look at the man who’d been Oliver’s best friend for fifteen years. He had a dark complexion and a shock of black hair and was staring me down with piercing black eyes and an expression so intense that I was about to glance at Oliver in confusion when with a huff of _“dude”_ he broke into a wide grin and pulled me into a massive bear hug that almost lifted me off the ground.

Oliver groaned, “please don’t be weird, _please,_ ” and Shelly, a short, sweet looking woman with wildly curly brown hair and a motherly demeanor snorted, “don’t scare him off yet, hon.”

Ben pulled back and glanced at his wife.

“Listen, I’ve been invested in this relationship since 1987, I think I get to have a moment when I finally meet the guy who’s been described to me many times in frankly ludicrous detail.”

I burst out laughing as Oliver collapsed onto the blanket, blushing furiously and scowling at Ben with badly hidden fondness. 

We all settled down and I properly introduced myself, feeling more at ease by the minute as the three of them chatted easily about life and work, pausing occasionally to ask me questions but allowing me to just ease into their already established dynamic. Oliver kept shooting me happy little glances and brushing his fingers over mine as we sat close, him cross legged and me with my legs stretched in front of me, propped back on my hands. Shelly tactfully pretended not to notice our flirting but Ben just smirked so hard that eventually, just to see his reaction, I abandoned all subtlety and leaned over, pressing a kiss to Oliver’s cheek and watching it turn bright pink as he glared at me.

“Don’t encourage him,” he muttered, nodding at a crowing Ben. I smiled innocently like the little shit I was and kissed him again.  

“The boys seem good Ollie,” Shelly said, eyes on the kids as they played house among some trees.

Oliver nodded, absently stroking my ankle. “Sam had a rough night, but they’ve been doing okay. Adam’s actually been trying help with Sam more lately, trying to teach him things and look after him. That’s been an unexpectedly nice development.”

They continued to talk, discussing everything from Sam’s recent potty-training to their daughter Rachel’s new refusal to nap, and I realized with every passing minute that I knew basically nothing about the nuts and bolts of raising children.

I said as much when Shelly asked why I suddenly looked pale, and she laughed lightly, unconcerned.

“Oh they teach you, don’t worry about it. I read all the books in the world about parenting but I ended up calling my mom every ten minutes asking for advice and getting furious every time she just said ‘try things until something works.’”

I made a mental note to start calling my mom for advice more often.

“Elio’s incredible with them,” Oliver said confidently, squeezing my knee. “They both listen to him more than me already.”

Eventually the kids came over in search of snacks and Adam adorably introduced me to Rachel, who smiled shyly at me and whispered “hi” and sat between her parents as Adam came and plopped down between me and Oliver, taking a sandwich from Shelly with a “thank you Mrs. H” coaxed out by his dad.

Sam climbed into my lap easily, chewing on his cheese-stick slowly and resting his downy head under my chin as I hugged him to me. Ben and Shelly looked slightly surprised and I felt an inordinate amount of pride that the kids seemed to have fallen for me as much as I had for them.

Sam grew tired and eventually drifted off with his head in my lap, body wrapped snugly in Oliver’s sweatshirt. Shelly went over to chat with some acquaintances and Oliver procured a softball to play catch with Adam and Rachel, leaving Ben and me sitting in expectant silence.

He was watching me shrewdly, waiting for me to ask the first of many questions he knew I had. I knew I needed to ask the pettiest one while I had him alone.

“What was she like?”

He sighed. “Jessica? Brash, witty, a bit of a free spirit, a little selfish. They met through a class on rhetoric junior year, and God did they love to argue.”

I tried to picture it, Oliver with a spunky girl who pushed his buttons. I could see it a little too clearly.

“They were off and on for years and I never got the sense either was particularly serious about it, but she was perfect for making his parents happy, an upper class Jewish girl from upstate who he could bring to family events to charm everyone. She used him as arm candy too, made them the _it_ couple at every party on campus.”

“That sounds like Oliver’s nightmare.”

Ben barked out a laugh. “I don’t think many people at school ever saw the real Oliver. I got the nerdy introvert who loved just having a beer at home and would wax poetic about the significance of some great philosopher at one A.M. on our couch or argue with me for HOURS about Star Wars, but I was one of the lucky few who got to know that guy. He was a champion at putting up the façade his parents made him build.”

My heart broke a little at the memory of my initial dislike of that façade. “I think he’s shy,” my dad had said.

We both paused and gazed out over the park landscape for a beat.

“He was so, so excited for that summer,” Ben continued, eyes still focused far off. “I think he was waiting for some academic and personal inspiration, and I was there to pick him up at the airport six weeks later ready to get an enthusiastic earful on the ride home.”

He shook his head. “He was just…empty. It honestly scared me. I had no idea what could possibly have happened to change him so starkly, and he wouldn’t even engage with me. He just walked around like a ghost for weeks, barely eating, ignoring Jess’s calls. I finally forced him out and got him drunk because I didn’t know what else to do. On the fourth beer he finally lost it in the dingy pub we were at uptown and told me everything. About you, how you were the love of his life but there was no way he could ever see you again, about how he was afraid he’d be stuck in the closet forever and living a lie, and then he’d circle back to you again, how incredible you were are how much he hoped he hadn't hurt you. It was the saddest fucking thing I’d ever heard and I felt like a horrible friend for not having any answers.”

He looked at me seriously. “I don’t know what those months after were like for you but I hope to God you had someone to talk to, because he sat with it all alone for so long and it nearly killed him.”

I blinked back the tears that had gathered along my lashes and nodded.

“My parents knew about us, even if we never really discussed it explicitly. I think that helped more than I realized at the time. I never had to hide my grief.”

He kept going, somehow sensing that I needed to hear the entire story.

“He proposed to Jess a few months later, and I got the sense that he felt like if he couldn’t be with you he should just go with the option that made everyone else happy. I told him he was crazy, he always just shrugged at me, resigned to it. Jess always seemed slightly puzzled by it too, but she had parents to please and no real alternative either. And they did have a connection of sorts, in their own fucked up way.”

“He called that winter,” I murmured. “To tell us he was getting married.”

Ben nodded. “I hoped that would give him some sort of closure, he still walked around like he was sporting an open wound. It did, just in a sad sort of way. He became more functional but…less, somehow. Not the same person. I think Adam was the first time I saw Oliver truly happy again. I thought maybe that was what would finally settle them both into some sort of happiness because those boys deserved it.”

I stroked Sam’s back, feeling his deep, steady breaths under my palm. Would they be better off now? With two dads who would have to explain why they couldn’t hold hands on the subway or why every family in the movies didn’t look like theirs?

Ben seemed to catch my train of thought.

“Elio listen, and I say this as someone who counted Jess as a friend for years. Those boys had two unhappy parents and one of them took the coward’s way out. I figure now they have a shot at two happy ones not only love them but love each other, and that can only be a good thing in my book.”

He nodded over at Oliver, who was walking back over to us, tired and flushed with a giant grin on his beautiful face.

“That’s the guy I’ve been waiting to see again for years, and you’ve brought him back.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to Ben, who was giving me a look of utter conviction and holding out his hand to shake mine.

“And Elio, it’s really, _really_ nice to finally meet you,” he said meaningfully, grasping my hand in both of his.

I couldn’t speak, but matched his smile and squeezed his hand.

Oliver reached us and looked down with a wary expression. “Which story was it, the freshman keg party or the Jackie Keller bra incident?”

Ben blinked innocently up at him but I felt drained and emotional from our conversation which I knew Oliver could see plain as day on my face. After he collapsed next to his son and lay on his back as Ben happily recounted a highly dramatized story of their first college party, he reached for my hand and weaved our fingers together with a squeeze. I held on tightly for a very long time.

***

Around three o’clock Sam stirred and cuddled into Oliver, still wrapped in Columbia colors and blinking awake as the older kids came over, getting bored of their games.

“Why don’t we take the kids to a movie?” Shelly said brightly, “give you two a chance to rest for a few hours.”

Oliver’s halfhearted “you don’t need to do that” response was drowned out by Adam’s excited “yesssss” and Sam’s immediate shift from drowsy to eager so Oliver laughed and acquiesced, shooting her a grateful look.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner?” I asked, wanting to repay both of them for their kindness and finding I liked their company as much as I’d hoped. I looked at Oliver questioningly and he nodded with enthusiasm. “I can make Mafalda’s pasta.”

“Done deal,” Ben said, clapping me on the back. “Shall we say six-thirty?”

With the plan made we packed up and said our goodbyes before the five of them headed off, leaving Oliver and I to stand there, surprised by our unexpected luck at having three hours alone.

“Now what?” He asked with a grin.

I looked around, watching as dozens of families were still enjoying the afternoon, and my eyes landed on a young couple trading shy glances on a bench. I turned to Oliver with a slow smile.

“Can I buy you a coffee?”

He let out a shocked little laugh. “Are you asking me out?”

I swayed into him, nodding and biting my lip. “Are you saying yes?”

“I’m saying hell yes, let’s go.”

We walked too close until we found a café with little round tables outside and I bought us two cappuccini and a scone as Oliver picked seats. When I sat down, feeling bizarrely nervous, Oliver glanced up at me through his lashes and with a coy smile asked, “so Elio, what do you study?”

And we were off, blushing and playing footsie under the table and getting the first date we’d never had. It reminded me of all the reasons I’d fallen for Oliver in the first place. His unique mixture of confidence and bravado and shyness, his passion for history, and his undeniable beauty which was glowing in the afternoon sun as he listened raptly to my rambling.

By the time we’d finished our drinks we were both staring unabashedly at each other’s mouths and more than ready to be home, so we returned our cups and strolled back toward the house, stopping quickly in a produce market to grab ingredients for dinner. I felt Oliver’s eyes on me as I picked out tomatoes and peppers.

“What?”

“Nothing…”

I shook my head and went to pay for my haul.

“Should I get some peaches?” He asked, looking at me innocently.

I smacked him on the arm.

***

We fell into each other clumsily as soon as we were home, some of our play-acting carrying over as we made out eagerly against the front door like teenagers, one of his hands around my waist and the other holding the leg I’d swung over his hip as I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried desperately to climb into him.

“I should say I usually don’t put out on the first date,” he laughed as I kissed up his jaw, but he was releasing my leg, flipping us around, and hastily unbuttoning my jeans to reach in and find me wet and straining for him.

“I’m a lucky boy then,” I gasped, head falling back against the door as he fell to his knees and took me in his mouth.

He hummed in agreement and set about working up a relentless rhythm until I was incoherent and choking out expletives in three languages before finally coming down his throat with a sob.

Instead of letting my knees buckle as they wanted to I dragged Oliver up by his collar and pushed him over to the couch, laying him out and climbing over him to return the favor as he moaned luxuriantly and gripped my hair.

As he stopped panting I draped myself on top of him, sighing contentedly as he dragged his fingers across my back.

“That was unexpected,” Oliver said softly.

I hummed into his chest and propped my chin on his sternum. “Do you ever think about how we could have met, in another life?”

He nodded, eyes getting distant. “I used to daydream about it constantly, right after I came back.”

“Tell me.”

He wrapped his arms around me tighter. “In every class I TA’d I would imagine you walking in that first day, all nonchalant and stylish and clearly the smartest person in the room. Everyone in the lecture hall would be swooning but we’d lock eyes and you’d only see me. You’d come up after class with a nonsense question and I’d ask you out for lunch and we’d be madly in love by mid-afternoon.”

He wiped a thumb under my eye, catching a tear.

“I always pictured you in the audience of a recital at school. I’d finish the last piece and get up to bow and you’d be there, looking at me like you did when I first played for you. You’d come to talk to me afterward and argue with me about my interpretation of Bach and I’d kiss you to shut you up.”

We lay in silence for a few minutes, imagining the lives our alternate selves. Eventually I looked back up at him and he smiled softly, but there was a fragile look in his eyes that I hated.

“I think I like this version best,” I said firmly, “because I know just how lucky we are.”

With a shaky breath he nodded, brushing a hand through my hair and cupping my cheek tenderly.

“Yes, me too.”

With a final kiss to his palm I jumped up and offered a hand to pull him to his feet.

“If I’m about to try and outshine Mafalda I need to get started and I need a sous-chef,” I said cheerily, breaking the melancholy mood and earning a chuckle.

“At your service.”


	3. Chapter 3

Elio bossed me around the kitchen that evening, giving me simple tasks that even I could manage and preparing a feast of pasta primavera with chicken and salad and a fruit tart that his mother would be proud of. When Ben, Shelly and the kids arrived we had everything ready and the chicken was in the oven, allowing us the rare pleasure of opening a bottle of wine as Adam and Rachel played in his room and Sam sat on the floor playing happily with his Elmo.

When we got everyone to the table Elio bashfully explained that Mafalda had taught him the recipe when he went to college in case he ever needed to, in her words, “impress a girl.”

“Clearly that didn’t happen,” he said, shooting me an amused glance, “but I figured I’d try it out on all of you.”

“Well I’m impressed and more attracted to you,” Ben said between bites, “so I guess it did its job.”

I choked on my salad. “Back off, pal.”

“It’s the food’s fault.”

We all laughed while Elio looked proud of himself for nearly causing a duel for his affections, and I basked in the glow of all my favorite people getting along.

A few hours later it was nearing the witching hour, and as they got ready to leave Ben pulled me aside while Elio and Shelly talked easily by the door, the latter holding a sleepy Rachel and swaying gently. He gripped my shoulder, looking suspiciously emotional, and a rush of intense gratitude washed over me as I was reminded just how much I’d leaned on him over the years and how much he’d supported, comforted, and encouraged me through all my worst moments.

“The guy’s alright,” he said, nodding toward Elio and going, as always, for humor.

“Eh,” I shrugged, betrayed by the huge smile breaking across my face. “I think we might be okay.”

He laughed weakly and pulled me into a tight hug, drawing back with a sharp pat on the back.

“I love you man, see you this week?”

“You too, lunch Thursday?”

He nodded and moved to the door but I grabbed his sleeve.

“And…thank you. For whatever you said to Elio.”

He nodded and gave me a final pat on the shoulder as we walked over to his waiting family. He shook Elio’s hand firmly and said he looked forward to seeing him next weekend while Shelly just squeezed my arm kindly and said goodbye with an eyebrow raise that said we’d be chatting more next time we took the kids to the park.

***

Elio cleaned up the kitchen as I got the kids washed and brushed and ready for bed, and Sam allowed Elio to read to him as I went to lay down beside Adam.

“Good day?”

He nodded sleepily against his pillow. “What did you do when we were at the movies?”

I shrugged, feeling the ghost of Elio’s mouth on me. “We got dinner ready and got to spend some time together. It’s nice for me to have one of my best friends around.”

He nodded again and looked at me for a long moment. “Do you love him?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes I do, very much.”

“Like you loved mom?”

I played with the quilt as I considered my answer. I knew this conversation would be coming, I just hadn’t expected it so soon. But Adam, my beautiful, incredible boy, had been watching me over the past several months, of course he could see the change in me.

“In some ways yes, but it’s different too. He makes me feel complete, like when I have him, you and your brother with me I’m the happiest person in the world.”

He thought about this for a while.

“Do you like having him here?” I ventured.

He was silent long enough for me to start panicking, but eventually he nodded emphatically and rolled into me, patting my cheek comfortingly.

“Yeah. I like that he makes you smile. And he makes yummy food.”

I laughed through the lump in my throat, hugging him so hard that he yelped and wiggled away. I pulled the covers snugly around him and slowly patted his back the way he liked as he drifted off.

When I made it to room number two I found Sam barely keeping his eyes open as Elio sat against the headboard and read in a low voice, one hand stroking Sam’s hair lightly. He blinked up at me, looking relieved.

“I don’t think he’s going to sleep until you get in here,” Elio said, smiling.

So I crouched next to the tiny bed and listened to Elio’s voice as Sam finally let his eyes fall shut.

Once we were safely back in the living room we sat in companionable silence as I graded papers and Elio got lost in his sonic world, scribbling steadily on staff paper and humming quietly to himself. Between each paper I’d turn to watch him, thrilled by how normal it already felt to be sitting together working, content to just be near one another.

When I had made a respectable dent in my pile Elio stood and stretched, arms over his head and back beautifully arched, before wandering over and crawling into my lap, folding himself so that he fit across my legs and tucking his curly head into my shoulder. I brought an arm around his torso to pull him close and took a moment to breathe him in as burrowed in close and sighed contentedly.

I finished my grading one handed, reading particularly interesting or terrible passages out loud and getting laughs and groans in response, sometimes with a casually brilliant comment thrown in. Once I had finished the last, and worst, of the lot I threw down my pen and ran my hand through Elio’s curls lightly.

He glanced up to find me staring at him, utterly besotted, and shook his head fondly.

“Ready for bed, old man?”

The yawn that broke through my scowl gave me away so Elio clambered off me, grabbing an A paper off my stack for bedtime reading, and pulled me to bed. I curled around him with a sigh as we slipped under the duvet and felt just as I’d told Adam- complete.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short chapters to round it out. Thanks for reading my ramblings!

I went to St. Joseph’s the next morning, sitting at the back and vaguely remembering the Catholic ups and downs from being dragged to church with my grandmother and losing myself in the music cascading down from the choir loft.

After mass was over I went to find Dr. Katz, a small woman with frizzy grey hair and a penetrating gaze who’d been my piano teacher during my Master’s degree and managed to be both wonderfully supportive and mildly terrifying all at once. She had always encouraged me to learn the organ, saying that it “will support you while you write that impenetrable noise you love so much.” I’d protested indignantly at the time, but she was perhaps going to prove to be prophetic.

She hugged me hard, frail arms squeezing my waist, and exclaimed happily.

“Hello, hello Elio! How did you like the Victoria?”

I assured her that it was perfectly sung and she chuckled and patted my cheek, leading me out by the arm to a small café and describing the music program in detail.

Once we’d had a cup of coffee and ordered our lunch she fixed me with that astute gaze and smiled.

“So, are you still set on a musician’s life?”

I fiddled with my cup on its saucer.

“Yes, I plan to start auditioning and to keep composing, but my life might be undergoing a bit of a change soon, and part of that means having a bit more stability here in the city…”

She tilted her head. “What sort of change?”

I blushed a little. Coming out to people was difficult enough, explaining that I was moving in with my old lover who now had children was a whole other ballgame. But she just listened quietly, eyes growing softer as I explained the situation and placing her hand on top of mine.

“Congratulations my dear.”

I let a smile overwhelm my face. “Thank you.”

She took a sip of her tea, cleared her throat and said matter-of-factly, “You want my job? Because I’m ready to go sit on a beach and drink chardonnay.”

***

I got back to the apartment just as my boys were coming back from their trip to the grocery store, Oliver holding the bags and the boys holding melting popsicles, matching grins on their sticky faces. As Adam explained their morning to me enthusiastically I propped Sam up on the counter and took a wet paper towel to his face and hands.

“…and then we stopped at the toy store but we only got a present for Rachel’s birthday,” Adam finished, finally pausing for breath with a dramatic sigh and collapsing on the kitchen tile.

“Big morning, huh?”

He nodded seriously as I placed Sam back on the floor, free of any sugary residue.

“Why don’t you ask Elio about his morning,” said Oliver absently as he organized the fridge, hampered by Sam’s earnest assistance which mostly involved him taking things out just as Oliver put others in and handing them to his dad, who just took them patiently and with a smile.

Adam dutifully asked about my adventures and I explained where I’d been.

“What’s an organ look like?”

“I can show you sometime and we can play it together, it’s very loud.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows questioningly as he straightened up and I nodded back, bouncing excitedly.

“Yeah?”

“I told her I’d think about it and talk to her next week, but it might be perfect. She wants to retire after Easter so I’d start in the spring.”

He shook his head, eyeing me proudly.

“Been here two days and you’re already getting job offers.”

***

We had a few hours left before my train, and in the thirty minute nap overlap Oliver and I got a few precious moments of alone time pressed together on the couch and talking quietly as I explained exactly what Dr. Katz had said about the job.

“It would require a certain level of…discretion on our part,” I said, a little gloomily. “And as much as Dr. Katz says it won’t be much of an issue in this parish I don’t think I’ll get to bring my…you, in on my arm any time soon.”

He nodded. “I figured. We’ll deal with it if it’s a job you want.”

I sighed as I organized my thoughts, sliding my hand over his chest to slip between the buttons of his shirt.

“I want to meet the pastor and get a read on him first. But I kind of loved it today, I think I could do a good job at it and I think it’s worth a try.”

“Then I think so too.”

I looked up to meet his gaze found it pensive which made my stomach drop.

“Really?”

He shook himself back into the present and looked at me searchingly. “I just…I don’t want you to feel like you have to take it just to get a job right away. I want you to feel free to decide how your career will go, regardless of us. To decide for yourself what makes you happy.”

I almost laughed in his face, I couldn’t believe he still didn’t understand. I took his confused face in my hands and shook it side to side in mock frustration.

“ _Oliver_. Oliver _,_ what makes me happy is this. Being here makes me happy and music makes me happy. So as far as I’m concerned this is my ideal. I don’t want to try and just be a concert pianist if it means I’m bouncing around from city to city and never able to be here with you. And if I, or you for that matter, ever want to do something else we’ll figure it out together, I _promise._ ”

He smiled weakly.

“I guess I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m too happy right now.”

I massaged at the wrinkle between his eyebrows with my thumb.

“It’s been raining shoes for ten years my love, I think you forgot what it’s like when they stop.”

That got a laugh out of him, and his expression cleared a little.

“So this weekend really has been alright?”

“This weekend has been absolutely perfect,” I murmured against his throat as I pressed my lips to it softly.

***

They all cabbed with me to the station, Adam sitting between us and leaning against my arm as Oliver held Sam in his lap. Once I’d gotten my ticket and the announcement to board had come over the loudspeaker I started my goodbyes, knowing I’d have to get better at doing this without getting emotional since this would be the Sunday routine for the next few months.

Adam understood that this wasn’t a dramatic farewell and just accepted my hugs and kisses easily, but Sam, feeding off my mood, was teary and fussy as I held him to me before setting him down and getting to Oliver.

“I don’t think I’ll ever handle saying goodbye to you around trains very well,” I admitted shakily, getting pulled into his arms and winding mine around his waist in a ridiculous reenactment of that awful day.

He nodded against my hair. “But this time I can say what I was dying to then but couldn’t,” he murmured in my ear.

“Which is?”

“I love you and I’ll see you soon,” he said simply, pulling back to meet my gaze.

“I love you and I’ll see you soon,” I parroted, managing a small smile. “I think I like that.”


End file.
